


September Looks Good On You

by deerstepsteps (TallDarkHorse)



Category: Markiplier/jacksepticeye - Fandom, Septiplier - Fandom, Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Also irl relationships are treated with respect here, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, F/M, Homosexuality, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oh No He's Hot, RPF, Slash, There's A Tag For That, Youtube RPF - Freeform, and happy scenes all around, baby gays cope with undeserved guilt, but with happy endings too, college dorm au, complete fic, hide your feelings~, let's throw everyone in a brand new situation because i have to cope with 2020, no hate for nice real people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:29:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24944659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallDarkHorse/pseuds/deerstepsteps
Summary: Jack is hoping his semester abroad will give him a fresh start...but when he's placed with a hot roommate, he'll have to sort out his feelings once and for all.
Relationships: (not at the same time obviously), Mark Fischbach & Sean McLoughlin, Mark Fischbach/Amy Nelson, Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin, Suzy Berhow/Arin Hanson, mark/amy - Relationship
Comments: 72
Kudos: 78





	1. Luck of the Draw

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I haven't dabbled in these pairings at all, so I'm taking a wide curve into AU territory for this. Just trying to get by with 2020 insanity...so here's something I wrote to help myself and I hope it helps you too. <3

McLoughlin was the name on his student ID, but at least they let him go by “Jack.” He tapped the new card on his thigh in an improvised beat while he stood in line for keys to his dorm.

The building he was in, the student union, was packed with lost and excited people. Maps and handouts and winding lines fluttered all around. It was a lot to take in, but everyone was being really nice, and a couple of people already told him they liked his accent. It was easy to feel welcomed despite having no idea what to expect. 

Studying abroad was a spontaneous action for him. After some personal stagnation and some minor trauma, he was in desperate need of a change...clawing to get out without ruining his future. Continuing education while staying as far away as possible suited both of those.

He had tried to strike up a conversation with his new roommate online, through the university’s web chat system, but it was pretty brief. Jack hoped he wasn’t a jerk or at least wouldn’t be leaving rotten food all over the place, but at least he got that Jack was flying in from across the ocean and offered to bring his own microwave.

But since then Jack hadn’t heard from him or seen him. His blue eyes darted around at the dizzying amount of faces and voices nearby. Was he in this room now?

“Next!” came a voice ahead of him. He startled to attention. “Last name?”

“Sorry,” he said, and the student volunteer did a double take at his accent in that simple word. Jack lowered his voice. “McLoughlin.”

The volunteer hesitated, then flicked through the envelopes one by one. “Is that M-c-G-...?”

“L. Sorry,” he said again. He ran a nervous hand through his dark brown hair.

“No, that’s okay! Sorry I had to ask!” the volunteer said with a smile. “My last name’s Polish, so I get a lot of that too. You’ll be in 302 in Oak Hall. You don’t have far to walk--just turn left outside the door and follow the brick path across the road.”

Jack took the heavy envelope and squeezed the keys through the material. “Thanks.”

By the time he hauled his enormous suitcase across the road and up the triple flights of stairs, his baseball tee was sticking to his skin--Americans weren’t kidding when they complained about the humidity in the south. He knocked first because even though he lived there too, he didn’t want to walk in on his new roommate half naked ( _Or do you?_ whispered a ghost of a thought in his head, which he shook out immediately). It was the courteous thing to do. But when he tested his key and peered inside, no movement could be seen. Just two sparse sets of furniture, one that was already claimed. He yanked his suitcase through the door and propped it against the bare bed. Curious about this near-stranger he was about to live with, he studied the decorations.

A dark, stitched comforter was pulled over the mattress with gray sheets peeking out at the corners. A couple of rubbermaid boxes were stacked under the bed, and a pile of notebooks and electronic chargers rested atop the desk under a lamp. Not a lot of personality yet, but there was a quality set of Turtle Beach headphones hooked over the back of the chair, which impressed him.

Wait...stuck to the lamp was a polaroid photo. Two young men grinned at the camera in a dark setting, each with an arm around the other. The photo was overexposed, so much so that it whited out the details of their faces significantly, but one of them wore glasses. They both looked...maybe Korean? Which surprised Jack, because he knew his roommate’s last name was German or something. Maybe these were friends of his.

He settled into the room and tossed a few of his things in the empty dresser drawers--it’s funny how he didn’t bring enough to fill even the tiny room, but his sheets had taken up so much space--and was just starting to review his new course schedule when the door burst open.

Initially Jack made wide eyes at the force with which the door moved, but then he stayed that way because of the young man who had come in. He _was_ the same man from the photo, and he did wear glasses, but what was much harder to see with the contrast in the picture was that he was _chiseled as all hell._ He wore a light flannel button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and his black hair grew in long waves at the top. Light scruff lined his jaw and he smiled, eyebrows raising in surprise.

He was hot to the point of cruelty.

“Jesus Actual Christ,” Jack murmured, with the wind knocked out of him.

“Oh, hey! Did I scare you?” he said, misunderstanding Jack’s cursing, and in the most unfair way possible his voice was dark-chocolate smooth, too. “You’re Jack, right? I’m Mark.” He held out his hand for a shake, which Jack took immediately because he wasn’t an idiot.

“Yeah, that’s right; nice ta meet ya.”

Mark’s face blanked. “Woah, you really are fresh from Ireland, huh? For some reason I didn’t consider that. That’s really cool.”

Jack smirked, and tried not to let it get to his head that his new hot roommate just called him fresh. _He didn’t mean it like that, he didn’t mean it at all_ , he thought. But whatever he promised himself about laying low, he had to at least try to befriend this guy or he would never forgive himself.

“Thanks, man. And you’re, uh...not…” _Not ugly. Not much taller than me. Not shirtless, **yet**. No, shut up!_ “New to the country, so you can point out when I make a complete arse of myself.”

“Sounds good,” Mark said with a laugh. “I came back to grab my wallet, so if I can just scoot around you…”

While he did, Jack looked down at his lap for a minute, holding his breath to steel his nerves. Then he looked back. “Hey, are you doing anything important? I wanted to find a coffee shop.We can go together!”

“At three in the afternoon?” Mark asked, staring at the clock. Then he shrugged. “Sure, I’ll go with you.”

Jack gathered his keys and wallet in a hurry before he could chicken out.


	2. Feels Like Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the attention already! I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am. I haven't written this fast in a long time, so I'm excited to show you more. And if you know someone who might like it too, please share it with them!

Mark looked around the coffee shop, with its wood and metal and the bare lightbulbs hanging from various spots in the ceiling. It looked very...craftsman. He and his flannel shirt and his scruff worked well here, Jack observed, not aware until today that he had a type. They both tucked into their beverages.

“This would be a great place to take someone on a date,” Mark commented offhand.

Jack’s eyebrows shot up and he shook his head. _That was a very comfortable thing to say to another man. Maybe I’ve got more of a shot than I thought._ He took a risk. “Well, Markie Boy, if that’s why you brought me here then get to the schmoozing!”

Mark looked at him in surprise, but didn’t duck in discomfort or turn stormy. “I would, except coming here was your idea.”

“Yeah, well…” Jack swallowed. “You still need to get to know a guy if you’re going to talk like that.” He chanced a wink. _What are you doing, you absolute fool?! If you offend him you’ll have nowhere to live!_

Mark grinned and settled his forearms on the table. “Alright, then, let me see...uh....OH! Got it. Would you rather...have wheels on your feet, or knives on your hands?”

“Knives, Jesus...steak knives?”

“Butter knives.”

“Aw, well, that settles it. It would be much easier to navigate with perma-skates than it would be to figure out how to use my weird hands. Especially in the bathroom...ergh.” He shuddered.

Mark leaned back with a twisted expression. “Oh, come on, we live on the third floor! How do you expect to get up there on wheels?”

“Elevators, obviously. Masturbation, Mark! How would I survive?” he said way too loudly, making them both laugh.

“Well, you’d need help, duh,” Mark said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. Jack stopped laughing immediately, and seeming to realize what that implied, Mark’s face fell. “I mean, uh...not everyone would have knife hands, so you’d...oh, whatever, it’s a hypothetical.” He fiddled with the flap on his plastic lid.

Seeing him flounder made Jack want to help by changing the subject...eventually. He smirked. “Alright, alright, but how about this: would you rather have mice in your pants, or scorpions in your shoes?”

“Permanently?!”

Jack hummed thoughtfully. “How about, every morning. And you gotta find them!” he added with a pointed finger.

“Well, if you think about it…” and Mark laid out his defense while Jack tried to hide his smile in his cup.

Eventually they had finished their drinks and decided to walk through the campus. It was new to both of them, and with classes scattered all over, there was plenty to explore. After finding a couple of the right buildings, Jack asked what Mark was studying.

“Uh...engineering?” he said with a squint.

If Jack still had his drink, he would’ve spat it out. Of course the guy that dresses like a carpenter wants to build things. “What?! That’s wild! Don’t you have ta take a lot of maths for that?”

“Yeah, I guess I will,” Mark admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “I did alright the past couple of years, though, so I don’t think it’ll be too bad. What are you in for?”

“Oh, um...business.” Jack wasn’t quite as certain as to the path for rest of his life. He had just picked something, since the study-abroad program required that he have a focus. “I think I might like to work with music, or hotels or something like that. So business sounds like it could be a good start to a lot of different things.” 

“That makes sense,” Mark said with an accepting half-smile.

Near the path ahead, a statue held its ground. Bronze and tall, it depicted a man in a suit with a stack of papers in one arm, but something was off about his face.

Jack chuckled and pointed up at it. “Doesn’t it look like his eyes are crossed?”

Mark grinned and agreed. When Jack stood in front of it and mimicked the pose, all serious except for crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue, Mark all but _giggled_. It was such a warm, rolling giggle that Jack had to laugh too.

But Mark waved his hand at him. “Wait, wait, do it again,” he ordered, pulling out his phone. Jack put in extra effort and Mark snapped a picture, giggling even harder. 

“Dead accurate,” said Mark. “Here, put in your number and I’ll send it to you.”

Jack took the phone to enter his number and his name as ‘Some Asshole That Lives With Me.’

When he handed it back, Mark’s smile could’ve lit up every building on campus. Oddly enough, it made Jack feel electric as well. 


	3. Ten Minute Mark

Once classes started, they had more chances to be apart, which meant more chances to stumble onto the various founder statues around the grounds. It had become a habit to try and one-up each other with each new selfie they sent--first just by making faces, then by putting various hats and garments on the statues, and eventually escalating to the one where Mark pretended to lick the statue’s face. Jack had laughed out loud when he saw it, and had to clap his hand over his mouth as a few of his classmates had looked at him in confusion.

Their friendship grew comfortably over the next few weeks, and they were both glad to share the semester with someone pleasant. Their dorm was set up with their two beds in one room, and a small kitchen and living room and bathroom connecting them to the next bedroom’s occupants, who seemed to never be around. Neither him or Mark were too messy, but Mark told Jack just to pile dishes to the side if he left too much in the sink. And if one of them needed to study, Mark would either don his headphones as a sign for quiet, or to give Jack a quiet space to focus instead. They were lucky. Sharing a room with a stranger wasn’t always so easy.

Mark was also pretty sociable, which really helped Jack stay out of his head. Since he didn’t know that many people yet, he could’ve easily spent his days stuck at the dorm trying to push away the past. Instead, he was often invited out.

The first time this happened, Jack was coming in just as Mark was leaving.

“Got some new friends and a deck of Uno cards awaiting. I’ll be back!”

Jack blinked. “Oh, okay. See ya later!”

But before the door had shut all the way, Mark leaned on it with his shoulder. “Do you want to come with me?”

Jack weighed being alone in the dorm with his thoughts. Not that he hadn’t been alone before, nor that he had finished all his homework. It’s just that earlier he had gotten some nasty messages on Facebook from old classmates back home, and didn’t want to linger on it. Still...crashing Mark’s hangout probably wasn’t polite.

But before he could open his mouth, Mark leaned over and yanked him out the door by his shirt. “You could use some laughs, I can tell. Let’s go!”

Jack obliged, and allowed himself a small smile as they walked. “Well...thank you. Who are we trouncing in Uno?”

“Couple of guys from my physics class, Tyler and Ethan. They live over by the library.”

It didn’t take long to get there, and their dorm was laid out pretty much the same except for with more sports posters. Mark’s friends were welcoming and quickly established the house rules of Uno, which involved a lot of new things Jack had never heard of. Ethan, a scrawny kid who bobbed his legs a lot, kept changing the rules, claiming he forgot. Tyler was built like Mark but was much taller, and seemed quiet until he made a deadly play. When Mark challenged him, he did a comical double-take, expression guilty. But then Tyler laid out his hand and proved that he really didn’t have anything else he could play besides the wild card, so Mark had to draw several more.

By the end of the game, Mark held twenty-three cards, Ethan and Jack kept laying down sevens and swapping between them, and Tyler had called out Uno multiple times but never had anything he could win with.

In a clutch moment, Ethan laid out his second-to-last card, a wild card, and yelled “Uno!” but Jack squinted at him.

“I challenge that,” Jack said. “I had that deck two seconds ago, and I didn’t have any wilds. And you haven’t drawn since then!”

The other two turned with glares. Ethan’s eyes darted at everyone. “Uh, sure I did, I had to when...uh…”

Suddenly, Tyler reached over his lap and slipped his hand between the cushions. In his fist he drew out several wild and draw-four cards tucked behind Ethan’s leg. Jack cackled, and his laughter doubled when Mark dropped his hands and stood up. Ethan pulled his limbs close to his chest and started repeating, “No...No, Mark!” as Mark grabbed his ankles and tugged him upside down. Ethan easily arched his back and walked his hands on the ground for safety, screaming and laughing.

Giddy, Jack hopped up and spun around Mark’s back, peeking at Ethan. “Sure you don’t have any more of those on ya, buddy boy?”

“That’s right,” Mark said proudly. “Jack here’s the good cop to my bad cop, but if you don’t give him the info he needs, things are gonna get really bad.”

Tyler joined in, pretending to pat him down, while Ethan laughed and twisted away. “Cut it out, that tickles! I forfeit!”

Mark slowly lowered him to the floor on his back. “Damn right, you do. Now go to the corner.” Ethan started to protest, but Mark pointed sternly. “Go to the corner! You’re in time out!” Ethan slinked over and faced the wall, and the rest of the group turned to look at the scattered cards.

“I don’t even remember which cards were mine anymore,” Tyler joked.

Mark replied, “Yeah, me either. Guess you won, Jack; you had the fewest.”

“Nah, man, you were close. I think we were neck and neck,” Jack said, grinning impishly. Mark swatted at him, too, for good measure.

~

Later that week, Jack noticed the room was hotter than normal when he woke, but chalked it up to the possibility that Mark had adjusted the thermostat.

By the time he returned that afternoon, it was sweltering.

He fiddled with the sensor in the hallway, which seemed to think it was running when it wasn’t. “Fookin’ hell,” he muttered, on hold with the college’s maintenance hotline.

Finally someone picked up. He lamented about the broken air conditioning and they asked a few questions. Mid-call, a door across the hallway opened, and a young man with chin-length hair poked his head out. When he caught sight of Jack, he mimed fanning himself, and Jack nodded in agreement and rolled his eyes. The call ended abruptly.

Jack shared what he learned. “They said they’d send someone out tomorrow. Guess they’re booked all day. Feckin’ air units dropping all over the city.”

“TOMORROW?!” the guy said, opening the door wider and revealing a pink shirt and boxers. “If I have to wait so much as an hour I’ll surely die!”

A voice from further inside the room whined, “Arin, for god’s sake, stop going outside in your underwear. You’re going to be arrested.”

Arin yelled back, “At least there will be a/c in the jail, Dan!”

Jack laughed and walked over to introduce himself. “I’m Jack. My roommate Mark and I live in that one,” he said, breaking the sweaty handshake to point at their door.

“That’s cool,” said Arin in a normal volume for the first time. He lifted his hair into a ponytail. “I like the way you said that. ‘Mahrk.’”

A much skinnier man appeared in the doorway behind him, frizzy hair sticking out in every direction. “Don’t be rude,” he chided, but a leisurely smile stretched across his face. He reached a hand over Arin’s shoulder to shake Jack’s hand too. “I’m Dan and this is Arin, but you probably heard all that.”

Jack laughed again and tugged the collar of his shirt away from his skin, fanning himself as best he could. “Yeah, I did. Listen, I’m going to go to the pool since we’ll have to put up with this all day; you guys wanna join me?”

“FUCK yeah!” Dan shouted, throwing both fists in the air and making Jack jump. _Just when I thought he was the quiet one._

“Cool; let me go get changed real quick and I’ll meet you guys back out here.” He turned towards the room and composed a quick text to Mark: ‘Join me at the pool when you’re done with classes. Don’t bother saying no--the room’s an oven.’

Mark clearly didn’t hesitate, because Jack had no sooner put his phone back in his pocket than it had gone off again. ‘Ten minutes, tops. :)’


	4. The Big Bad Swim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack: It's impossible to look away from attractive people, it's just logic  
> Also Jack: *can't take his eyes off Mark*

The trio walked to the pool and dumped shirts and towels on one of the tables. It was crowded, but they were still able to get one with an umbrella. Arin promptly took a running cannonball into the pool, but when Jack dipped his foot in, he shivered.

Dan stepped up to the edge next to him. “If it’s not lava, it’s ice, huh, man?” he commented sagely. Then he flipped in, his back making a loud slap against the surface.

Jack folded his arms over his chest, goosebumps rising. _This is ridiculous. A pool has no business being chilly at the end of summer._ He stuck his toes in again. It would take him a minute to gather courage.

But he didn’t have a minute. A loud series of thuds suddenly built up behind him, and he turned to see Mark, sans glasses or shirt, barrelling towards him at full speed. A collision was inevitable. As Mark knocked them both over, Jack had several choice words in mind, but was only able to get out “YEH FOOKIN’--” before they hit the water.

When they came up for air, Jack spluttered through his laughter, and splashed at Mark with a savage wave. “Yer lucky you didn’t kill me! A guy as big as you, the impact alone could’ve done me in,” he joked.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you,” said Mark, grinning wide. With his hair slicked back and beads of water dotting his skin, Jack was suddenly confronted with the realization that his back had been pressed against his friend’s bare chest a second ago, and he barely noticed.

“Yeah, well...you’d better,” Jack muttered, flustered.

“And he will,” came Dan’s voice, high behind him. Jack and Mark both turned in horror to see him stacked on Arin’s shoulders. “By **losing** a ferocious game of Chicken Fight!”

“Good lord!” Jack screamed as Mark dove under his legs and emerged from the water with him perched warily. His forearms locked onto Jack’s shins, and Jack’s hands latched onto his until he steadied himself.

Mark’s voice rumbled through him, “Challenge accepted.”

A blur of splashes and limbs seemed to have the fight evenly matched, until Arin let go of Dan to slap at Mark, which was clearly against the rules. Jack took the opportunity to twist Dan off his mount. He held his arms in the air victoriously, and Mark made crowd-cheering sounds and slow laps around the arena. Jack held a fist down for Mark to bump, and yelled, “Hell yeah!”

Then he felt himself teetering.

They both started to fall, but at the last minute, he felt Mark let him go on one side, so that he toppled off sideways. 

“Traitor!!” Jack shouted before he bubbled under. But just as quick, Mark tugged him closer, yanking him through the water, and bent close.

“Don’t worry, I’ll save you! Don’t struggle!” And Mark put the other hand on his upper back and lifted him over his shoulders, across the back of his neck like a sheep. Overwhelmed with the feeling of being pulled around so easily, and kind of enjoying it, Jack covered his face with his hands until Mark tipped him into the grass on the edge of the pool. Pseudo-gasping, Mark laid a hand on his chest. “Sir! Sir, are you okay? Blink if you need CPR!”

Blushing furiously, Jack sat up and shoved at him, giving a short chuckle. “Alright, alright, enough.”

“I’m going back for the others, Jack! Stay there where it’s safe!” Mark yelled, doing a massive and horrible breast stroke over to dunk Arin in the water too. Dan’s eyes were impossibly wide.

Beside him, a tattooed girl came up with a polaroid camera, giggling. She sat next to Jack and stuck her feet in the pool, lifting the camera to her face and snapping a picture of the scene in front of them. “Hey,” she said breezily. She glanced at him below sharp eyeliner.

“Hi,” Jack said, panting. “Do you know those clowns?”

“Two of them,” she said, shaking the picture between her fingers. “I’m dating Arin and he’s practically dating Dan.” Jack whipped his head around, shocked, before she giggled again. “Not really. It just seems that way.”

Jack blinked out at the guys wading towards them. _She said that so comfortably_ , he thought. _Maybe they’d actually be okay with me._ His two newest friends did look close, and clearly Mark didn’t shy away from touching him or anyone else, either. He blushed again at the memory of Mark’s hand on his chest. _Maybe even more than okay._

“I’m Suzy,” she told him. “And you’re Jack, right? Or was that a bit he was doing?”

He laughed. “No, that’s right. I’m Jack. That’s Mark,” he said as they got closer, and Suzy and Mark waved at each other. Arin waved too, dopey grin on his face, and leaned up on his tiptoes for a chaste kiss.

“Hey babe. Thanks for the invite,” Suzy greeted, playing with his hair as he leaned against her side. She set her camera behind her. “Thought I’d get some pictures for that project I’m doing, but I got a little trigger happy. Do you guys want some of the extras?”

“All I want is cheese fries,” Dan sighed. Jack reached out his hand and she passed the stack of photos to him instead.

~

After getting some junk food for everyone, the sun was starting to set, so they braved the muggy dorm again. Suzy gave Jack a few of the pictures she’d taken at dinner, too, since he had lingered on some of the earlier ones.

With the window open and a gentle breeze sweeping through, the heat wasn’t so bad. Jack started taping up some of the photos while Mark played a retro-looking platformer on his laptop.

“I need to get me some more pictures to put up,” Mark said over the 8-bit music.

“You can have some of these if you want.” When Mark looked over, Jack hid one against his shirt, a photo of Mark with his arms slung over Jack and Arin. He had pulled Jack into that picture, so Jack had sort of crashed into Mark backwards, but they were both grinning at the camera as Mark held him close to his chest. “Not this one, though. I’ve never looked more manly.”

Mark laughed and picked a few, then flicked off the one from his lamp to add to his side of the wall.

Jack thought for a moment, then asked, “So is that your brother, or a friend of yours, or…?”

“Yeah, it’s my brother,” Mark said, a half-smile forming. “He graduated a year ahead of me and he’s been busy lately. Travelling all over, y’know. I can’t even remember where he’s at this time,” he said, squinting up at the ceiling. “Seattle? Cincinnati? One of the two.”

Jack sat on his bed with a soft smile. “You two close, growing up?”

“Oh yeah, I miss him a lot…” Mark said, tossing the roll of tape between his hands. “He always used to stick up for me when we were kids, but he’s an artist--”

“What does he draw? Landscapes? Anime?”

“Something like that,” Mark laughed. “He’d get teased for it in high school, so then I had to start sticking up for him instead.” He slid the tape dispenser back and forth on his desk like a toy car. “Sometimes...sometimes I wonder if we’ll still be friends as adults.”

Jack frowned at the sad smile he gave. “Sure you will. Why would anyone stop being friends with you?”

Mark rolled his eyes but smiled warmly. “Gee, thanks. Does that mean we’ll stay friends when you move back to Ireland?”

Jack smiled and rapped the wall of pictures with a knuckle. “Count on it.”

~

The next day, Jack walked into the food court to grab a bite between classes. He had barely stepped inside when he heard his name from across the room, and saw Mark waving him over to a table. It was nice to know they lived together and the guy still wasn’t sick of him, but it felt weird joining him and the girl he was sitting with.

“Jack, good to see you! This is Amy,” Mark said, touching the girl’s shoulder. Her curly blonde hair drifted as she nodded at him, trying to make a clean bite from her burrito before setting it down to shake his hand. Jack smiled toothily at her kind and quirky expression, until Mark continued, “She’s my girlfriend,” and his face and stomach both dropped.

Just for a second.

“Amy!” he repeated loudly, trying to recover. “Nice to meet you. How long have you guys been together?” he asked, because what he almost said was ‘He has _never_ talked about you’ and he knew that would be a disaster. He let one of the flimsy chairs catch him as his knees buckled.

“A month or so?” she estimated, glancing at Mark to confirm. “We’ve been dating about a month, I mean. We knew each other last year in high school.”

“Amy’s going to that television production college nearby,” Mark supplied. He beamed at her and Jack felt sick. “She’s going to be a director.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack said, voice raspier than he would’ve liked. He tore his eyes away from Mark’s face and said stiffly, “You directed a lot of things yet?”

“I was a bit of an AV nerd in school, but I’ve still got a lot to learn,” she said, looking down at her food. Whether it was due to humility or the awkwardness of Jack interrupting their date, or whether she just wanted to get back to eating, he couldn’t tell. Either way, it made him want to run.

“Welp, it--” he started to say, right as Amy started to talk too. “Sorry,” he bit out. “Go ahead.”

She lifted her burrito to her lips. _Golly, she’s pretty_ , Jack thought; _I bet he can’t spare a glance at anyone else with her around._ “You’re studying abroad? What made you want to travel?” She blinked big brown eyes and took a bite.

Jack closed his eyes tight against the memory, flashes of one of the school bullies kissing him roughly, of all the teasing and shoving suddenly making some weird sense, of other jocks coming in to the gym and seeing them, of the bully covering to the rest of the team and saying _Sean_ came onto _him_ \--

Sean was his real first name, but it started stinging like a slap after that. Or rather, punches and ringing headaches and worse.

“I just...wanted to go play wanderer, y’know?” he lied, waving a hand. “When else am I going to be this young and wild and free?”

“That’s how I feel!” Mark brightened. “Like this is the time to figure it all out, right? To try new things, anything you want!”

“Yeah,” Jack replied. A sad smile flickered over his face. _Little do you know, I’m trying to go after what I want less often._

“Listen, it was cool meeting you and all, but I was actually trying to pass through on my way somewhere, so--yeah--,” Jack thumbed behind him. “I’m gonna go. Enjoy your time together!”

They waved him goodbye and he turned with a clenched jaw. Whatever he thought was developing between him and his roommate, he needed to stop thinking it, _now_ , or it was going to hurt even worse.


	5. Hot Blooded

_In the dream, Mark closed the door and locked it. The heat in his eyes thrilled Jack to the bone._

_“What are you doing?” Jack asked, hope and yearning making his voice quake._

_“Ending the wait,” Mark answered, striding towards him, pulling him close, crushing his mouth in a kiss._

_His hands cradled Jack’s face as they rocked backwards into the furniture. Dizzy with it. Without ceremony, Mark pulled off Jack’s shirt, leaning him back over the desk with a mouth so hungry it ached. Before long, he slid down, lips and teeth at Jack’s neck, then his chest, then hot and wet and low at his belly while Jack watched--_

Jack awoke violently, sitting up before he knew what was happening. It was as if the dream dumped him into reality and spun him upright in his bed, panting. It took him a minute to get his bearings.

And when he did, he was so glad it was still dark, and that Mark, snoring, was still asleep.

He took a deep breath and dropped his forehead in his hands. _What are you doing, brain? What are you trying to do to me?_ Another exhale. _It’s just a little flutter of a crush. No big deal._

He had been so good, too. He was going to be patient, he was going to be satisfied with staying friends, especially when he knew the person he liked was interested in someone else....and everything was going to be fine.

_There’s nothing wrong with being friends. I can handle this._

But a flash of that hot tongue below his navel shook him to the core.

He pressed his hands to his eyes. _Damn it…_

~

Jack headed to class the next morning, ready to brave this test. He could use the distraction, and had studied his best in the days prior. Dream be damned, he was going to focus.

Of course, it didn’t quite work out that way. His mind blanked several times and he had to keep yanking it away from the thoughts of the night before. His pen also wouldn’t work at first, so after scribbling angry invisible circles on his paper, he was halfway through two big inky loops before he realized it was writing again. He turned it in and almost tripped walking back up to the door, and someone shoulder-checked him walking through the building, and the ice cream machine in the student union was out of order, so there goes the one thing he wanted to lift his mood. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if video games and puppies were cancelled forever with the way he was feeling as he barged back into the dorm commons.

And the air conditioning was broken again. Great.

He walked into the furnace of a hallway and saw Mark and Arin talking outside their door. Mark was shirtless and Arin was again in boxers and a t-shirt.

“Hey, look, Jack,” Mark said. “Between the two of us we’ve got a whole outfit!”

Jack smiled wryly. “We do what we can to get by, right, fellas?” he said while thinking _Don’t stare at his pecs, don’t stare at his arms, and for **god’s sake** don’t follow his happy trail._ Knowing that would be impossible, he brushed past them and entered the room, dropping himself heavily into his desk chair and letting his bag fall to the floor.

His eyes closed to take in the silence. Since the desks were at the end of each bed, his back was to the door. Facing the empty room, gentle lighting through the window, he was finally able to relax. He leaned back slowly, opening his gaze to the ceiling.

_Those shorts sat pretty low. Drawstring, too. It would only take a quick tug to--_

He sat up with a loud, single curse and tore into his backpack. He pulled a pen, a notebook, and his Composition textbook onto his desk and calmly got to work. Nouns and adjectives, that’s what he needed. Nothing alluring about those. He soundlessly mouthed the first prompt and answered that one, then the next, then the next.

Just when he was starting to get into the groove of his homework, the door opened and Mark walked past him to the closet. Ignoring him was easy enough until he bent down and removed his bottoms.

Mark casually said, “That Arin guy has the right idea,” but all Jack heard was screaming.

 _WHATAREYOUDOINGI’MGOINGTOEXPLODETHISISN’TA **LOCKERROOM** , BROWHATTHEHELL--_, and on and on while Mark coolly rolled onto his bed, opened a textbook, and started reading.

From Jack’s perspective, the view was perfect, and torturous. Mark still had his boxers on, which was a perfectly acceptable way to cool off in the privacy of one’s own home. With one leg kicked up to balance the book on, his abs were naturally, perfectly crunched. He had a perfect arm slung back to support his head while he read his perfect stupid book. Yeah...perfect.

This was the worst.

Jack was sure he had never been redder. He stared intently at his paper, but it only took a fraction of a change in direction to see over the edge of his own bed. After the fourth or fifth time forcing his eyes back down, he buried his face in his arms.

 _This is so much harder here than at the pool. We’re alone, the door is closed, he’s practically naked_ \-- Mark yawned-- _I can hear him BREATHING_ \--

In a rush, Jack stood up and grabbed his keys, startling his roommate. He met Mark’s stare and announced, “Today sucks and I’m going to take a walk.”

“Okay,” said Mark, bewildered.

Jack shut the door a little too loudly and started off towards the exit, but just after he passed the next door, it opened. “Oh, hey dude--”

“WHAT?!” Jack roared, spinning on his heel.

Dan’s eyes widened and rolled wildly. “Woah-kay, good talk!”

“No, it’s--I’m sorry,” Jack told him, pinching the bridge of his nose with both hands. “I’m having a hell of a day and I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He squinted at Dan’s faded Rush tee and long jeans. “...Are you wearing denim?”

Dan looked down at his bare toes peeking out from the cuffs of his pants. “Yeah, I guess. Why?”

“It’s like...a million degrees in here.”

“Hadn’t noticed,” Dan said with a shrug. Then he kicked out some flip flops and stepped into them. “Hang on, I’ll go with you.”

“You...don’t even know where I’m going,” said Jack.

“S’ok, I have ingested a few of what’s known as ‘special brownies,’ and I am up for chilling out with a special homie.” Dan’s slow smile turned smug as Jack noticed his reddened eyes.

“You’re _high_?”

“Only six-two.”

Jack shook his head and smiled. “Okay. Fine. I was just going for a walkabout. Come on.”

“So what ails you?” Dan asked, sliding his hands into his pockets. 

Sweat trickled down the back of Jack’s neck just thinking about it. “Where do I start?”

“At the beginning, m’dude.”

“Okay, I’ve got a...let’s say, a ‘habit’ I have to break,” Jack said.

Dan nodded, allowing Jack to hold open the door and let him pass outside as he considered this. “Do you really have to?”

“Well...I mean, yeah.” Jack said hesitantly. He thought of what it would’ve been like to indulge in staring openly a few minutes ago, and followed that train of thought all the way to getting thrown out by his shirt collar. “Definitely.”

Dan leaned an arm around Jack’s shoulder as they walked under the trees. “Sounds like you need to cut yourself some slack, my friend.” Jack looked at him sideways. “You’re a little tense.”  


“Whereas you’ve probably never been tense a day in your life, right?”

“I’d be happy to tell you how I do it.”

Dan looked so encouraging that, despite his hesitations, Jack had to take the bait. “Alright, fine. What is it?”

“Gotta give yourself a little _self-care_ ,” Dan told him with a pointed look.

“Like a bubble bath?” Jack said flatly. “Face mask? Mani-pedi?”

“Like a good ol’ _low-five_.”

“Ah.”

“Choking the chicken.”

“Yeah, I...I get it.”

“Shaking hands with the mailman.”

Jack’s face twisted sourly.

“Auditioning the finger puppets. Wait, I think that’s for ladies...Polishing the banister--”

“YES, THANK YOU, I see what you mean, thanks a bunch.” Jack ducked out from under Dan’s arm. “I don’t know that that would really help me here, though.”

Dan smiled childishly. “Okay, _that’s_ impossible.”

“Well, I--” Jack stopped, flustered. He continued through his teeth like a secret. “What I’d be daydreaming about right now isn’t exactly...kosher.”

“Hey bro, that’s the beauty of it,” Dan told him. “No one has to know.”

~

Jack hated the thought of heeding someone else’s advice on something so...intimate...but he also couldn’t stop thinking about it. He continued the walk by himself for a while after Dan lost interest and headed home, and when he reached the dorm again, it’s empty. He finished his homework, to some extent, and pulled out his 3DS to poke around on something lighthearted for a minute. Thankfully it didn’t demand too much attention, because he kept spacing out to the cheery music, and shaking his head clear once he realized he’d set it down on the blanket next to him more than once. 

Finally he gave up and snapped the handheld shut.

“Maybe it would be good to get it out of my system,” he muttered to himself. Then he grimaced and flopped on his back. “Or **maybe** it would feel much, much worse and I’d hate myself every time I look at him.”

He flung his arm over his eyes and volleyed the idea back and forth in his head. Thoughts swirled until the door cracked open and Mark came in.

“Hey, there you are,” he said warmly. He walked further in, shorts and a tight white undershirt under the bath towel thrown over his shoulder, and started pushing around something in his desk drawer. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah, I think so.” 

Wet hair dripped on Mark’s neck, speckling his shoulders. 

Jack’s gaze slid over from under his arm, roving over the shape of him, the muscles shifting under his shirt, the ease with which he moved. He trusted Jack. And here he was playing predator. He scrubbed his face.

_“No one has to know.”_

So Jack continued, “Or at least, I’m about to.”

And he grabbed his shampoo and his towel and a clean set of clothes and headed in for a shower of his own.

~

It started off innocent enough, but it didn’t take long for Jack’s long shower to get creative. 

_Mark’s deep voice, “You need help with that?”_

_Warm breath on the back of his neck_

_Inquisitive fingers trailing up his thigh_

And soon Jack was muffling moans into the heel of his hand, turning his face to the shower wall, stars exploding behind his eyes in the most glorious crest imaginable, near collapse as the hot water spilled down his skin.

He cleaned up, content, yet conflicted. And once he stepped onto the cool tile floor, he faced himself in the mirror, and silently told himself, _And that’s going to be the end of it, right Jackaboy?_ He took a deep breath and a hard glare. _Because you know he’s with someone else, and this is going nowhere, and you don’t want to hurt. You're here to get away from all that._ Heartache softened his expression. 

_Don't bring it with you._


	6. Stay in Character

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you for your patience and your support. From the beginning, I was able to post a chapter a day, which is wild. Unfortunately yesterday was very busy for me, and it might be difficult this weekend, too. Please enjoy this chapter, and bear with me...if I can finish a second one today, then I'll go ahead and share it with you as a special treat. If not, please check back Monday!

It’s midweek, and Jack is wrapping up his essay before his roommate comes back so he can hang out with friends without pulling an all-nighter. A knock on the door confused him, but he got up to open it anyway. _Maybe Mark left his keys or something..._

But when he opened it, he’s looking down at blonde waves and small shoulders instead. He deflated a little.

“Hey, Amy,” he says. She greeted him back, and he only hesitated for a second before manners kick in. Besides, he’s not petty. He held the door open wider. “Mark’s not here, but you can come in if you want to wait for him.” She thanked him and squeezed by. “Wouldja like a soda or anything?”

“A water would be great, please,” she said, and folded neatly into Mark’s desk chair. He got her a glass and some ice water, and when he returned, she had twisted around to study the titles of the textbooks on Mark’s desk. He handed her the drink and she thanked him and sipped. 

Jack had thought she was going to meet them at their friends’ apartment, not here. He resigned himself to an awkward however-long-the-wait and sat at his own desk, staring blankly at the monitor, when she noticed one of the stickers on his laptop and hummed thoughtfully. “You like Creature Feature?”

He looked her way and she immediately covered her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re busy. I didn’t mean to blurt out.”

He shook his head and said, “No, that’s...fine.” He closed his laptop and left his hand resting on it. “You know the band? What’s your favorite song?”

“I’m torn between The House of Myth and Buried Alive. I mean, that’s a hell of a video.” Her eyes glittered. It was strange to hear someone talk in person about a horror-themed band he’d only seen online. “What’s yours?”

He thought of one song about a relentless killer and bared all his teeth in a wicked smile. “Bad Blood.”

She shivered with a delightful grin. “You’re way too good at that. Do you have some sort of past I need to know about? Should I scream now or later?”

“Worry more about Mark than yourself,” Jack said, twisting his smile and his head at a sinister angle. “He has to sleep here, after all.” 

She leaned back with a laugh, slapping her thigh. “That’s it, you HAVE to come to this Halloween party next month. It’s at my friend Suzy’s house. You’ll be a hit.”

He broke the act to smile genuinely. “I know a Suzy! Tattoos, artsy lass. She’s dating Arin, right? Yeah, he’s my friend. Lives down the hall!”

“That settles it then!” she beamed. “You’re invited from all directions.”

“Sounds great; I’d like that,” he said, and was surprised to find he meant it.

The doorknob turned and Mark pushed in, catching sight of both people in the room in surprise. Sloppily dropped his bag, he held out his hand to Amy in a flourish. “Mi Amelia! La famiglia! Are you ready?!”

Her smile widened as she tucked her hand into his, and he pulled her up out of her seat. He held their hands high and spun himself under her arm instead, making her throw her head back and laugh.

And Jack, a lump forming in his throat, picked up his keys to keep his hands from feeling so empty.

~

The trio walked lined up across the sidewalk. Mark’s arm was around Amy, but at least they never booted him off into the grass. Jack chomped down hard on his lip. _Stop it. They’re both being perfectly civil to you._

But he was pulled from his reprimanding, literally, when Mark grabbed his shirt to yank him closer, and looped his heavy arm over Jack’s shoulder too. A small smile bloomed on his face before he could help it. It made walking almost impossible, a lopsided, four-legged race, but it made him feel better. Included. Wanted.

The plan was to pile into Ethan and Tyler’s apartment for an improv night in their tiny living room. (“How do you feel about improv acting among friends?” “Fook yes, is how I feel.”) When they arrived, Tyler had pushed the squat coffee table out of the way and the room seemed a little less shoebox-ish. Pizza and wings were on the docket for later.

Tyler stood and spread his arms for silence. Jack had never seen someone so stoic be so theatrical. “Rules are as follows. We go in order as we’re seated now. Three minute timer for each scene. In this hat--” he indicated an upside-down set of Mickey Mouse ears, “there are slips of paper with names. Pull your name to pull your partner.”

“That sounds inappropriate,” murmured Amy.

“And in this hat--,” Tyler started, indicating a trick-or-treating pumpkin bucket before he was interrupted.

“In no way is that a hat,” Jack said loudly.

“Everything’s a hat if it fits on your head,” replied Ethan.

“IN THIS HAT is a bunch of prompts. No taksies backsies!” Tyler finished.

Tyler went first and drew Mark from the hat. They created a whole skit based around the idea of having to hold their bladder while out golfing with the CEO that had everyone howling.

Jack was next, and he picked Amy, waving her up to the floor. When he drew the prompt, he broke into a grin. “Oh, that’s _perfect_.” He handed her the slip and she grinned too, reading it out loud:

“Helping someone bury a body.”

Their skit was very supportive. Amy was a perfect improv partner, and they “yes, and”ed each other well. They also pulled a bunch of lyrics from Creature Feature songs in their dialogue, and having an inside joke like that made it much easier for Jack to feel comfortable around her.

They got plenty of laughs but scattered applause. Jack waved his hands rapidly for more. “Come on, don’t be shy! Credit where it’s due!”

“You two were great!” Ethan said with wide eyes. “We’re just scared of you now.”

Jack cracked the same unhinged smile he gave back at his room and Amy laughed for him again. Jack nodded at her shyly, and glanced over at Mark, who was beaming at them both. Perhaps them getting along put more than just Jack at ease.

Amy had no sooner sat down than Ethan drew her from the hat too, and Amy played brave space adventurer to his nervous alien lifeform. They both took a bow at the end, and Mark looked relieved that his girlfriend fit in so well. Jack cut another glance at him as he leaned back, contented, and spread his arms across the back of the sofa.

Jack nudged him with his knee. “Your turn, dude.”

“Oh, right!” And he sprung up and drew Jack from the hat.

And then the prompt. “Oh, no,” he mourned, already laughing uncontrollably, a deep bassoon staccato.

Jack snorted, already smiling all the way up to his eyes at the laugh alone. “What? What is it?”

Mark read, “The daughter of a farmer pleads with her father to let her marry the stablehand.” He shrugged at Jack with pursed lips, blushing already.

“No take-backs!” Tyler repeated, pointing.

“Oh, we wouldn’t,” Jack assured, puffing out his chest. “I just think I should be the father. I’m so manly I reek.”

“Fine, fine,” Mark said, tossing the paper to the ground. Then he immediately crouched, hands clasped in prayer. He attempts a cheesy Irish accent that’s practically Scottish. “Fahther,” he started, making Jack’s eye flash in playful anger. “I implore ye ta please accept te man uv my dreams!”

“I can barely understand ya, and yes I know your mother was from the tip of Scotland itself but I could barely understand her, neither! (Ya gobshite, that ain’t even close!)” Jack lashed, stage-whispering the last part and earning several laughs from their friends as his own accent intensified. “Now when I say that dope’s got no bollocks, I’m referring to the fact that he can’t even get a sheepdog ta listen properly. What makes you want ter be with a spineless man like that?”

“But I don’t care aboot none o’ that. I can train the dog like I have a hundred pups before, you know I can. I love him, fahther!” Mark said, stepping closer and grabbing Jack’s shoulders with both hands. When Jack’s jaw tenses as the last word, Mark tilts his head and looks positively manic. “Sorry. I know you prefer ‘daddy.’”

Their three friends on the couch are rolling in laughter at this point, and Jack’s head shakes involuntarily, embarrassment and intrigue causing his face to blush furiously. His mouth is twisted in such a reactionary shape that he couldn’t replicate it if he tried.

“Isn’t that right, daddy?” Mark said, moving his head to resume eye contact. His expression is pure taunt, knowing he’s got an upper hand on the humor somehow but not knowing the full extent of it. Jack stared at him, hesitating.

_Lord, why couldn’t we get a romantic prompt so I could just kiss him and be done with it? Feckin’ asshole._

Jack shook his head again and finally broke from the trance. He flung up his arms in defeat. “Fine! Marry the bastard! Just know that I’ll want you both out of my house the moment it happens. Otherwise you’ll **both** be calling me daddy.”

“Well, that can be arranged,” Mark growled, swiveling his head and voice suddenly sounding like a cartoon villain. He took a menacing step towards Jack, whose face fell as he took a step back, when the alarm on Ethan’s phone went off for the end of the scene.

Jack had never been so glad to hear a ringtone in his life.

Mark started giggling again as he pulled Jack into a hug and clapped him on the back. “You’re a trooper, buddy,” he told him.

Jack slapped his back too. “You’re lucky that timer went off when it did, ya kooky bastard,” he laughed.

Amy went last and drew Mark, and theirs was a British Bakeoff-style competition that involved a flurry of hand motions and miming ingredients and tools flying everywhere.

For Tyler’s second turn, he pulled Jack, who had barely stopped being flustered the last time he was up. And it looked like it would only get worse as Tyler was a cop trying to arrest him for public intoxication, and he was supposed to misconstrue the meaning of the cuffs.

Jack’s “drunk” voice was incredibly accurate and had the room collapsed in laughter. Amazingly, Tyler’s poker face was also skilled. As Jack mock-flirted his way into more and more trouble with the tall, muscular “officer,” he found the character a lot of fun to get into, saying things he wished he could say to someone else in the room. He was comfortable blurting out dumb things here. 

When he pretended to twirl and drop the cuffs and make Tyler bend to pick them up, he caught Mark’s eyes over Tyler’s shoulder. The blended look on his face was impossible to read--Jack couldn’t even begin to name it in one word. Peculiar, maybe. Amusement was in there somewhere. But it looked more intent, and focused, and curious than entertained.

He kept Mark’s eyes locked with his as Tyler stood and “cuffed” him, and Jack, wrists together, flung his arms up and behind his head. Chest out, back arched, eyes on Mark but facing Tyler, he said, “Ya gonna tie me back here too...'daddy'?”

Mark’s bursts of laughter felt like victory.

~

The remaining rounds of improv and delivered food passed in a euphoric blur. Jack truly felt at home as they walked Amy over to her car in the parking lot, shout-singing Creature Feature songs into the night with Mark making up lyrics in between. Mark kissed her on the cheek and held her for a moment, and when they parted Jack held out his hand, but she caught him off guard as she brushed it aside to hug him, too. 

After they’d both showered, Jack sat scribbling in his calendar while Mark lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his head.

“That was a lot of fun,” Mark said, smile clear in the sound of his voice alone. “I think we could take that show on the road.”

“Sold out tickets for sure,” Jack agreed. The more friends he made here, the more he wanted to keep in touch with them.

Out of the blue, Mark rolled over to face him and asked, “What do you think about Amy?” 

Jack dropped his pen and turned in his chair to face him. On tv, this would be the chance the main character takes to try and talk their love interest out of the person they’re dating and keep them to themselves...but he wasn’t that selfish, and Mark looked so earnest. He had to swallow before answering. “She’s nice. We got to talking about music a bit while she was here. I like her.” _And the worst part is, it’s true,_ he thought. _She’s decent and she’s interesting and she makes you happy, so I have no reason not to like her._ He presses his lips together. 

_Except that I wish it was you asking her about me._


	7. Little Black Backpack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Heads up, there are a couple of homophobic words in here. I've bleeped them out because this is meant to be a comforting story, as I said. I'm much more interested in sneaking little nods to Anti in the last chapter and Dark in this one. :P Have a great day!

One weekend, right at the end of September, there was a huge party going on at the edge of campus. Flyers had been posted all over the classroom buildings, student union bulletin boards, and rolling across the grounds like tumbleweeds. Jack had had two exams, one essay, and three wild dreams about his roommate in the past week alone, so he really needed to cut loose. He invited Mark on his way out the door, spur-of-the-moment, as he shrugged into a dark denim jacket, and suggested he invite Amy too.

But Mark scrunched his face and said, “Eh, she’s real busy lately. Let’s go, just us. We haven’t hung out in awhile!” There had been a reason for that, but it wasn’t a very good one, since Jack still saw him and still wanted to see more of him no matter what he did. So he agreed.

The party was at one of the frat houses right where the school grounds met the rest of the city, with a 7/11 right across the street that people kept buying alcohol and snacks from. It was nice and crowded and loud and distracting, just like he needed. 

Jack chugged the first red plastic cup on a tray passed around before it dawned on him that the drinking age was higher here than where he was from. He supposed if the party was raided he could pull the ‘I didn’t know, I’m 18, I thought it was fine, you Americans are weird’ card. Someone had pushed a second drink into Jack’s hands, and another, and another, and look, the lad could hold his booze, but at some point he started feeling really warm about the ears.

The house had a pool table, which Mark had secured for them, and now Jack leaned on his cue and couldn’t stop smiling at Mark’s bravado, and when the wider man gestured at the blue smear on his face from the cue’s chalk, he slurred slightly, “S’fine. It’s my war paint! N’I’ll wear it proudly!”

“They can take our stripes,” Mark joked in a bad Braveheart accent, leaning in conspiratorially, “but they can’t take our eight ball!”

“‘Ey, screw you!” Jack laughed. “That’s Scottish!”

“Well, show me an Irish movie, then!” Mark grinned. “I’m gonna go get us some waters after I _sink_ this unbelievable shot.”

“Nah, I got it,” Jack said. “You could use the space. Pressure gives you performance issues, I know.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m not even that drunk!” he said, and he meant it, except that he shouted a little louder than he meant to. But was a loud man to begin with, so it was probably not noticeable.

He had just begun to shuffle through the crowd when someone pulled away from him and said, “Ew, get away from me, tw*nk.”

He blinked, jaw set, hands taut. Did he hear that right? _Don’t turn around. Don’t acknowledge them. Keep walking._

“What a f*g,” said someone else, and his shoulders bunched below his ears.

_Not again--_

A guy closer to him turned and glared. “What’s your deal, f****t? What are you looking at? Stopped making doe-eyes at your boyfriend so now you’re looking at me?”

_I’m looking at you to see where the **punch** is coming from, obviously._

The guy stepped up to him and he forced himself to straighten his spine, but he wanted so badly to curl away and melt through the throng of people. He looked towards Mark in a panic, but his back was turned, head tilted at the table to angle the best shot.

“Leave me alone,” Jack muttered, afraid now that his accent would set them off, too. He tried to shuffle away but the throng of people wouldn’t break.

“What, are you scared, p*ssy? P*ssy bitch?” the guy said, shoving him back against the crowd. Someone spilled their drink and a few people gasped.

“Yuck, don’t touch him, Andy, you’ll get his gay on you,” one of the first guys said loudly.

Loudly enough that Mark looked up.

And the caution in his eyes turned to fire.

The guy reared back and clocked Jack’s chin, but behind the stars in his vision Jack saw Mark move quicker. Hands parting shoulders, swimming through people, cutting immediately between Jack and this guy, Andy, and punching him straight in the nose with a fierce aim. “Get your _fucking_ hands off of him,” he growled, and Jack found a new low rumble to that voice he thought he knew.

“What the hell!” Andy said, holding his bleeding nose. He wound a red fist into Mark’s shirt but Mark punched him again, swiftly, right in the same spot. The guy bawled with a steady stream of blood pouring down his face. Everyone backed away, frozen stiff, like they suddenly didn’t want to be associated with him.

“Just had to defend your boy-toy, huh?” Andy spluttered through wet hands. “Didn’t think he could take it?”

Ignoring him, Mark set a hand on Jack’s shoulder and announced, “We’re going,” and magically everyone let them. His solid hand steered him through the pathway to the door, and Jack just stared at the ground in front of his feet, equal parts traumatized and relieved. His brain had already started working to repress this night, but somehow, it had turned out differently.

They got outside and Mark released his grip, patting him gently before letting go. They started walking without a word. Jack snuck a glance at his face, and Mark glared off at nothing. Jack had never seen him pissed before. He didn’t even know how he would handle it--they had never really talked about homosexuality besides those early jokes--but all he knows is his fear called out to his friend in that moment.

What did he think now?

“I’m sorry about that,” Jack started, voice small.

“Are you kidding me?” Mark said, enraged, but softened a little when he saw Jack flinch. “It’s not you I’m mad at, man. Come here,” he said, pulling him a little roughly towards the window of the nearby coffee shop, the same one they went to that first day. “Let me see your face.”

 _Oh...he’s using the light to see by._ Jack relaxed a little, lowering his hands. He titled his chin up.

Mark pressed on it with the pads of his fingers. “Didn’t open, so that’s good. Does that hurt?”

Jack closed his eyes and shook his head, which was a lie. His brows pinched together against the closeness of Mark’s body, the tenderness of his touch, of the concern in his voice, of the longing pooled in his own gut, of the disgust himself and everyone around him seemed to have in what he wanted.

But god, did he want it so _bad_.

He refused to pull back, savoring the moment even while hating himself for it.

He opened his eyes.

Mark’s brown eyes watched him, worried. “I know that sort of thing is bigger than...y’know. The punch. Are you okay?”

Somehow, whether it was the months of living together or the drinks he’d downed in the last hour, something made Jack not want to hide anymore. So rather than covering up, or getting defensive, or making a joke, he shook his head. And his vision blurred against the streetlights, and Mark’s concern deepened, and he hugged Jack fiercely. Tears tumbled out. His hands slowly came up to clutch at Mark’s sleeves. And he buried his face. And instead of condemnation, he was held. And he was held. And he was held.

Mark turned his head and moved his lips against Jack’s ear. “I’m going to get you home, and you’re going to be safe, and you can tell me whatever you need, okay? Once we get there.” Jack’s breath hitched faster. Why was he being so _nice_? “It’ll be just us and you can say whatever you want. No one else has to hear it. I’ll just listen. Okay?” He nodded furiously.

As promised, they walked home without incident, and it was a relief to have a solid wooden door between them and the rest of the world. Mark dropped his keys on the counter and fished out a couple of mugs from the dish rack. “This is kind of corny, but I’m in the mood for some hot tea. How about you?” Jack nodded, silent, and Mark also dug out a bag of cookies in the pantry and set them on a plate. Jack leaned back against the counter, eyes following the lines in the tile on the floor, and while the microwave ran, Mark pushed the plate a little closer to Jack. He nibbled one absentmindedly.

Once the drinks were ready, they juggled everything back to the bedroom, and Mark locked the door and balanced everything on his desk. Then he hopped up on his bed, and patted the space next to him. Jack didn’t have the energy to argue. Once he was settled on the bed too, Mark handed him his drink and set the plate between them, taking a cookie for himself and chowing down on it in two bites.

“Now,” he said around the crumbles, “I’m ready to listen.”

Jack looked at him slyly, taking in the bits of cookie that landed in his scruff and on his shirt. He glanced back down at his cup and stirred the bag around by the string. “You are the messiest therapist I’ve ever had.”

“And the most handsome,” Mark said, and when Jack looked back at him warmly, he grinned, squeezing his eyes closed and giving an open-mouthed smile that showed off every bit of the cookie he had yet to swallow. 

Jack scoffed, but the smile still didn’t slide off his face entirely. He toed off his shoes and crossed his legs onto the covers. “I, uh…want to thank you for keeping me hydrated.” He lifted the mug, and recalled that Mark was keeping a careful eye on his drinks at the party. “I know it was getting a little out of hand there.”

Mark shook his head. “You seem fine. You walked yourself home. I’ve seen worse.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ve _been_ worse, but let’s not get into that.” He ate another cookie.

Jack took a sip of his tea and held the hot liquid on his tongue for a minute before swallowing. “Thank you also for sticking up for me back there. Especially since that kind of...roped you into it.”

“Doesn’t bother me.” Jack glanced at him, but Mark’s gaze was levelled. “But you were close enough that I could feel you flinch when he said it.”

“People are gonna say what they’re gonna say about me...but they didn’t say anything to you until you came over to help me. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” Mark’s voice was low and gravelly and vibrated the air around them. Jack was suddenly aware how close they were sitting. It was a comfort, like a heavy blanket, that he would sit that close. “I get why it bothers you, especially if you’ve gotten that before in a negative way like that. But there’s nothing wrong with the words themselves.” Jack ducked his head as Mark continued. “Let them think I’m gay. It’s not going to change the way I behave around you and it’s not going to change how tonight went. I still would’ve done it.”

He suddenly waved his hands and laughed. “But now we’re talking about me! That’s not how this was supposed to go. I don’t know how that happened.” He gulped his tea and indicated that Jack’s turn was next.

Jack’s stomach flipped. Then he let his head fall back against the wall. “Well, for starters, my real name is Sean.” He glanced at Mark to give him the chance to make a witness-protection-program joke, but he just nodded encouragingly. “High school sucks and we all know it, but last year was the worst. There was this guy on the football team--”

“You guys have football?” Mark interrupted. 

Jack sat up with a chuckle. “That’s the part you have trouble believing? Not that I go by a fake name?”

“Well, I mean, is it…?” Mark asked, miming throwing a pigskin.

“No, no, no...footie. Soccer. You know, the actual ball you move with your foot. Not that hand toss you guys call football.” He rolled his eyes in exasperation, but the dumb cultural difference really was making him feel better. Mark seemed to know it by the way he was grinning, the smug bastard.

“Anyway,” Jack kept going between pulls from his drink. “Guy on the footba-- _soccer_ team had been a real jerk to me, but I guess he actually had a crush on me or some shit, because he cornered me in the locker room after gym and made a move on me or whatever.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. It wasn’t that it was a bad kiss, per se, it just wasn’t a dude he would’ve picked, truth be told. “And when the rest of the team walked in unexpectedly, he got all uncomfortable and decided he had to blame it on me. To cover his ass.”

He glanced over at Mark to see how he was taking it, and he was listening carefully, compassion there but also the same darkness roiling in his eyes from the party. For the first time since meeting him, Jack realized Mark could be a real danger if he wanted to be.

“They kinda beat the living daylights outta me, if I’m being honest. Because o’course they took his word over mine. And o’course they spread it around to the whole school, not that people hadn’t called me that anyway, but I guess having ‘witnesses’ makes you more of a target…” He shrugged and drained his cup, then pulled his knees up to his chin, a sort of self-soothing self-hug. Mark gently took the cup from his fingers and set it back on the desk beside them while he talked. “I wanted to be out of there so badly. The whole year was awful. There was nowhere to turn, I hated my name because of how often people said it, people I’d been friends with for years suddenly stopped talking to me out of nowhere…” He realized hot tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and wiped at them with his palm.

Mark leaned against his shoulder, presence warm and anchoring. 

“Even if I was gay, why would it matter?” he said miserably.

“It wouldn’t,” Mark told him softly. When he looked over, Mark shook his head to emphasize the point, expression open and complex. “It really wouldn’t, Sean,” he said, and Jack’s heart clenched.

_He’s giving me a reason to like hearing my name again._

“It wouldn’t matter if you were,” Mark said again. “It wouldn’t matter if you wanted to put up posters of Ryan Gosling--” Jack stuck his tongue out in disgust, “--or, I mean, Zac Efron--” Jack nodded, relenting, and laughed, “or if you wanted to bring dates over or talk about guys you like or anything else. People can be shit anywhere, I’m sorry to say America’s not all-accepting either, obviously, but like...here, this dorm, me, all this is a safe zone.” He gestured around the room with splayed hands. “And I bet you any of our other friends would be fine with that, too, if you ever needed to talk to them.”

Jack thunked his head back on the wall again, drained and sleepy and relieved. “Thanks, man. I bet you’re right.”

“Yeah,” Mark said, expression soft but rapidly turning coy. “So...doooo you have a crush on anyone?”

Jack hopped off the bed before Mark could catch the pink on his cheeks. _As much as I'm dying to embarrass myself, there's no way I'm going to hurt you or Amy like that._ “Alright, conversation's over,” he said, giggling. He took the plate with him. “These are my feel-better cookies so they’re coming with me.”

“If you insist. Have sweet dreams about Zac Efron!”

Jack whipped his head around and threw a cookie at him. “Shut up! You’re the one that thought him up so fast!” He wriggled under his own covers and turned out the light. After a moment of blanket adjustments, he called into the darkness, “Goodnight, Mark.”

After some cookie crunching, he heard Mark reply, “Goodnight, Sean.”

He buried his face into the pillow, joyful and relieved at the way the night had turned out.


	8. Fire, Fire, Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! I've started posting this on Wattpad as well (with a cover!) so if you see it over there don't be alarmed. It's still me. : ) My username is wilderdeer on that site, and I have an original story there as well if you're interested! 
> 
> Thanks again for all of your positive responses. You are all so uplifting!

The two weeks that followed brought a great source of comfort to the pair in the tidy dorm. They had gotten into a nice rhythm of school and socializing, and Jack was starting to feel like himself again. Mark would call him Sean sometimes when it was just the two of them, but since everyone else still knew him as Jack--and to give him the chance to tell his own story, when and if he felt like it--his real name stayed at home. He was beginning to like the sound of it.

Little by little, the weather turned...chilling.

In an effort to save money, Jack’s Halloween costume was going to be a simple gore-adhesive slice across the neck. He applied it carefully in the hallway mirror. 

“Are you sure that’s all you want?” Mark called from the bathroom, where he was getting changed. 

“Hey, I’m a broke college student, I do what I can.”

Mark opened the door to reveal his suit and tie, his hair artfully done in a messy style, and Jack’s mouth opened indignantly. “What the hell kind of fancy party are we going to?”

“What?” Mark said, looking down at himself. “It’s just a regular suit I had.”

“And the eyeliner?!”

“I’m a K-pop star. Obviously.”

Jack mocked his “obviously” all the way to Suzy’s apartment. As it turned out, her big Halloween party was in the middle of October instead of the end. When asked why, she said it was because no one could compete with her parties, so she decided to take it easy on everyone else and have hers early.

When they arrived, Jack knew she was telling the truth. Not only was her apartment straight out of a New York high-rise design book, with modern furniture and light fixtures looking way more adult than anything any of their peers could put together, but it was also done up in spooky decorations everywhere he turned. Full-size skeletons occupied a few seats, cobwebs and glittered bats hanging from the ceiling, tiny coffin speakers playing music everywhere, and random lamps glowing from orange and purple light bulbs. Neon snack bowls were set in every room, eerie pinned insects were displayed in frames on the walls, and dry ice even fogged over the floors. Jack couldn’t pick up his jaw from the ground for at least the first hour.

When Suzy found him and tapped his shoulder, he turned around with an enthusiastic, “Holy SHIT, Suzy!” at the atmosphere, and then repeated it because her costume was so cool. She held out her hands so he could see she was decked out in full dark, sparkly, spider-web-y glory. “You look like a Transylvanian bombshell goddess or something!”

“Thank you very much. I’m in my element.”

“It shows!” 

The door opened again and Dan and Arin came in behind them, so Jack let her go and went over to chat with Amy, who had driven herself since she was on the opposite side of town.

Once Tyler and Ethan arrived, everyone settled around Suzy’s huge dining room table, wiping chip dust off their fingers with napkins as they were delt hands in Cards Against Humanity. As the game intended, everyone learned horrible things about themselves and their friends when it came to humor. Mark and Jack had taken up one of the corners of the table, and a number of times Mark had leaned over to whisper something in Jack’s ear, or he turned to see that Mark was sitting close and grinning over at him mischievously. 

One time in particular, Jack had kicked back cozy in his chair and turned much too close to Mark’s face, and with the slow smile he gave, eye half-lidded, even though Suzy insisted she wouldn’t serve alcohol to minors, Jack would’ve sworn he was drunk. His heart pounded as the loud music and the smell of Mark’s cologne swirled his senses.

 _What would it hurt to tell him?_ he let himself think. _What would it hurt just to knock him to the ground and kiss him senseless?_

_Besides everything._

Luckily the game just ended, so Jack made the excuse that he needed some air and pushed his way to the patio outside.

Suzy’s apartment overlooked the glimmering city, and the cool breeze helped slow his frantic heart as he took deep breaths of it. He almost wished he had a cigarette to ease his nerves.

After that last party, Mark kept his word that the facts wouldn’t change his behavior. Knowing Jack was gay didn’t affect the way he talked, the affection he gave, or even the way he’d change clothes in the middle of the room, damn it. It was equal parts relief and torture. Even full-on confessing his crush on Mark probably wouldn’t alter their friendship...if not for the fact that he was already in a relationship. 

And there was no guarantee that confessing would work out, even if that wasn’t true. Eventually he had to return to Ireland. This was all temporary, and that would have to be okay. It was better to deal with his own discomfort than to put his friends in an awkward place. He didn’t want Mark to feel like he had to censor his relationship, nor did he want Amy to feel like they were competing, or that their new friendship was threatened at all.

In this instance, the cons clearly won.

Didn’t they?

The door slid open behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see Amy herself. She waved as she closed the door behind her and came to join him against the metal railing. She gave him a friendly smile.

 _If only you knew what just went through my mind…_ he thought remorsefully.

“I just needed a break,” she said. “Am I bothering you?”

“Nah, you’re fine. This is the perfect place to take one,” he said. “It’s a real nice view.”

“You’re not looking at it, though.”

“You’re not wrong.”

They relaxed in silence for a few moments until he felt her eyes on him again. “I know that look,” she said. “Who or what broke your heart?”

A dry smile stuck to his face. “Doesn’t matter. How’s the party?”

“Not bad. Little loud, though.” She looked back at the bunch of their friends, and in the middle of them all is Mark, who posed dramatically and whose voice carried through the door; then she looked back at Jack, who’s dipped his chin and is watching from under his brows, intensely. Hungrily. Longingly. A starving man in a desert. “You should talk to the person.”

His eyes dropped immediately and he huffed, swallowing. “I don’t think so. I think...that would end horribly.”

“It could. But you never know, right?” She flipped her hair with her hand and gazed out at the city, until he stared at her miserably. “I mean, I care about Mark, but…” She met his eyes. “I don’t look at him the way you do.”

It took a minute for the implication to drop, and when it did, he leaned back in horror. Every ounce of willpower was spent on not hopping off the balcony.

But his panic must have been clear in his eyes because she reached over and touched his arm hastily. “Oh, Jack, it’s really okay. Please don’t feel bad! It’s just kind of obvious, that’s all.” 

He turned away from the glass door in a hurry, but the darkness did not cover his blush completely. He squeezed the railing. When he spoke, his voice was thick with embarrassment. “God, is it just obvious to you or is it obvious to everyone?”

She chewed her lip and tilted her head, trying to decide how to answer. “I haven’t heard anything...but I’m not sure that I would, y’know? Being...” She motioned between herself and Mark’s direction a few times.

He nods. It’s complicated.

“I don’t know if it would go anywhere, but…” She presses her shoulder against his in support. “I think you owe it to yourself to try.” 

“And you?” he said, unconvinced. She was a nice person, but this was too confusing. He didn’t recognize the tone of his own voice. “I’m not going to just waltz in there and mack on your man.”

Her brows furrowed neatly. “He didn’t tell you? We broke up.”

He shook his head violently, but the concept continued to stun him, so he tried it again. Finally he found a word: “ _When_?”

“Like, a week ago. I’m surprised it hasn’t come up.”

 _Sometime after that other party, then_ , he thinks, guilty. _Either he’s just that private of a person, or he didn’t want to worry me with it, I guess?_ He didn’t know what to make of that.

But at least he could check on the friend in front of him. He turned and touched her elbow. “Are you okay? I mean, being in the same room with him tonight isn’t bothering you?”

“It was kind of my idea,” she said with a shrug. “Er, I guess it was mutual. We weren’t that serious, and we’ve both been so busy lately that the timing just didn’t seem right.” 

They fell silent for a minute as he digested that. On the one hand, he couldn’t imagine them not making time for each other...but on the other, they both, especially Amy, were absorbed in difficult classes. And they genuinely both seemed fine. He would not have guessed it if she hadn’t told him...except, now that he thought of it, Mark hadn’t bounded over to kiss her when they arrived. That was the only difference.

He wondered how he hadn’t noticed that until now.

Her voice dropped. “He talks about you all the time.”

His brows lifted, not wanting to believe it, but hoping, in a small glimmer, just the same. “He does?”

“He does.” She rolled her eyes affectionately. “He’s kind of oblivious about it. But we’d only been dating a couple of months, remember?” She taps his hand. “I promise you there’d be no hard feelings. I want him to be happy. I want you to be happy, and me too. And I can’t be happy with him if I know there’s someone else who would’ve been ecstatic just to be near him.”

He rocked back on his heels, stretching his back over the balcony. His face turned away self-consciously. “I don’t know if _ecstatic_ is--”

“Jack,” she interrupted, “you light up like New Year’s Eve when he so much as says your name.” She grinned at him and put her hand on the door. “Trust me. Ecstatic is the perfect word.”


	9. So Many Things That I Want to Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Unus Annus fans in the house? (I couldn't find a tidy way to slip a reference into this chapter, I just wanted to say hey! And if not...go watch it. Time is running out~)

Armed with new knowledge made Jack happier, if not braver. He could soak up Mark’s touches and drink in his appearance without feeling so bad, but it was still scary to think of actually...doing anything about it. Jumping him the second he’s single, or falling for him and having to leave a month later, both of those sounded terrible.

At least, those are the excuses he gave himself for putting it off, just for a little while longer.

Mark gave him a reprieve by visiting family for the first weekend in November, so Jack could juggle his feelings, his copious due dates, and a certain application he was filling out in absolute solitude.

Absolutely boring solitude.

Right at the start of the year, he had purchased one of those rubber-band balls from the college bookstore. He didn’t know why--he had never used a single band, nonetheless enough to justify buying a whole clump--but now he at least had something to bounce off the wall while he took a break from all those duties.

He hit it off the wall, caught it, ricocheted it between a corner, and bounced it off the dresser in a cool trick shot. And he aimed a little higher, and smacked it right in the middle of his collection of pictures.

The one it landed on, sticking for just a moment and lifting it off the wall, was the one from that first day with himself mimicking the statue’s pose. He recalled Mark beaming at him from behind the phone in that shot, wearing that red flannel.

The flannel featured in one of the other pictures, sleeves unrolled since it was a little cooler and they were eating outside with some friends. They had gone to an ice cream shop and balanced everyone’s spoons between the cups in a weird bridge-like structure. _That flannel looks good on you_ , Jack thought to the pictured man. _Fall stuff in general, really. All of September looks good on you._

Maybe he’d get to see more seasons on him, too.

He took a look at their group in other photos. Some of them had Amy as well, so Jack was grateful that things had ended so amicably between them, so that all these memories could remain happy. He was pretty fond of her too at this point.

He got back to his application, polished it, and hit submit. That was priority one, so it was extra satisfying to check that off. After another half-hour of studying, there was a knock on the door.

He stretched and told them, “Coming,” before he heard multiple other knocks, rapid but too rhythmic to be urgent. He laughed and hopped up to get it.

On the other side was Amy, with Dan and Arin standing on either side of her with outstretched arms. “Heyyyyy it’s Jack!” the boys said in clumsy unison. 

Amy facepalmed, laughing. “They found me walking; there was nothing I could do,” she admitted as they invited themselves inside.

“Hey, this is a nice surprise! What’s up?” he said, offering her Mark’s chair since the guys had both crashed onto the beds.

“Well, I wanted to bring you a little something,” she said, producing a small flashdrive from her bag and handing it to him.

Arin sat up, attention snagged. “Is it porn? Please tell me it’s porn.”

“In no way would it be porn!” Dan interjected. “She’s a _laaady_.” Arin threw a pillow at him, and before he could retaliate, threw the blanket and then himself at Dan too.

“Oh Jesus,” muttered Jack, pocketing the flashdrive for safekeeping as Amy hid behind him.

She cupped a hand around his ear. “I’m going to duck out while I can. Watch that file on there when you get a chance, okay?” He turned his head to look, quizzically, at her bright smile. “You’ll see.”

She slipped out the door just as Dan fell off the bed. Jack tossed his hands in the air.

“Arin was trying to fart on me under the blankets!” Dan cried. Arin, for his part, smiled smugly.

“I’m confused,” Jack said. “Are you two actually siblings separated at birth?”

They looked each other up and down, seeming to contemplate this before shaking their heads...and then glancing at each other again, just to be sure.

A sudden sound on the open computer had everyone’s attention: an incoming Skype call. Arin slammed the “answer” button before Jack could see who it was, but Mark’s face smiled in through the screen. He only looked puzzled for a moment to see Arin’s maniacal expression instead.

“Good to see you again, Marky,” Arin said in a demonic tone. “But it seems you’re much too late! We’ve captured Jack and you’ll never--”

“No, I’m right here,” he said leaning into the camera and waving. Mark waved back.

“--You’ll never see him again!” Arin continued. “Unless you give us one million dollars!”

Dan cut in with a badly whispered, “Two million, Arin, tell him two million,” and wrapped an arm around Jack’s neck.

“Oh, no! That’s awful!” said Mark. He pointed up at the webcam dramatically. “I would, except I don’t negotiate with terrorists!”

“Oops! Wrong answer!” Dan said, and all-too-cheerfully tightened his hold on Jack’s neck. Jack flailed and rolled his eyes back, finishing with sticking his tongue out and slumping against Dan’s wiry body. Dan unexpectedly let him fall and he spit out a curse as he hit the ground.

Mark’s “Noooooo!” could be heard through the tinny speakers even as Dan and Arin both advanced on the camera, laughing like the villains they were.

But Arin abruptly cut out and turned serious. “But did you actually want to talk to your roommate, orrr…?” Jack sat up, kneeling with his arms folded on the desk, to participate.

“Yeah, I just wanted to say I’m going to stay out here a little longer than I thought. Wanted to make sure he didn’t get too lonely, since he’s even farther from home, but I see that’s not the case! Also--” he moved out of frame for a second and came back in holding a large, fluffy dog. “My mom’s dog says hi!”

Everyone cooed over the dog for several minutes, and Arin said, “Puppy, Mark. All dogs are puppies, no matter their size.”

After harassing their friend just a few more minutes, the guys left back to their place down the hall, and Jack settled a little more comfortably into his seat again. He hugged one of his knees to his chest and propped his chin on it. “So how are you enjoying your visit?”

“It’s good to be back with the family. A little weird, though,” he admitted. “They don’t keep the same sleep schedule we do _at all_.” They both chuckled. “What’s it like having the place to yourself? Any wild parties?”

“Oh yeah, keggers nonstop since you left,” Jack joked. He thumbed the flashdrive in his pocket. “...Amy stopped by a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, that’s nice of her!” he said with a little half-smile. “I’m glad you two are friends.”

“Me too,” Jack said. He chewed on his lip. Before he made any sort of moves at all, there was something he had to know more about. He hesitated before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me you guys had split up?”

Mark’s shoulders sank before he looked to the side thoughtfully. “I guess it’s because I didn’t want to change things? It’s nice to have everyone getting along. I didn’t want that to stop just because a status changed.”

Below the desk, Jack played with his toes as he digested the comment. “Does it bother _you_? Do you wish you were still together, I mean?”

“Nah,” Mark said, but his eyebrows furrowed together as he watched his screen, keeping an eye on Jack instead of thinking internally. “What’s up, Sean?” His heart skipped. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

He shook his head. That was for later. “I was just wondering if you were being private, or...if it was just me you didn’t tell.”

Mark’s mouth opened in understanding. His voice was smooth and concerned when he replied, “Oh, no, I didn’t leave you out on purpose. I haven’t told much of anyone because there wasn’t anyone to tell.” He pressed his lips together. “If anything, I’d be more willing to tell you more than anyone about big things like that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It was right after that one party, so I guess a part of me didn’t want to make it about me, since you were going through some things, but...I also really wasn’t that upset. And I promise I didn’t want to make you feel left out.” He smiled, looking at the camera instead of the screen for a moment, and Jack’s heart lept faster.

“Yeah, well,” Jack said, cocking his head, “you probably didn’t want this guy to swoop in and steal her from under your nose right away, is all.”

Mark broke into a rolling giggle. “That’s right, that’s what it was. I just knew you’d switch teams out of the blue. I was concerned.” 

Jack bit his lip partway into his mischievous smile. “You were concerned because **you** wanted to be next on my list instead?”

The ensuing blush was great, but Mark’s dropped jaw was his favorite part of the day...especially since he didn’t deny it.


	10. The Heat of the Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii everyone! This is the last chapter, which means it's my last chance to speak to you in this piece. I want to thank you so much for your encouraging words and your palpable excitement. Every word you typed to me helped me enjoy writing again. I hope these last scenes will show my gratitude.
> 
> Also, I wanted to share with you the fanart that inspired this whole concept in the first place. It's by a user called Envarchy, and it's delightful. Enjoy! https://www.deviantart.com/envarchy/art/10817-708768879

Mark would be back in town by dinnertime. The following items were on Jack’s to-do list:

-Set up surprise  
-Bake “glad you’re home” treats  
-Clean up a bit  
-Decide on outfit for dinner (snazzy but not trying too hard)  
-Steel courage, gird loins, etc. etc., figure out what you’re going to say/do???

He composed a quick text to Mark before noon--“Excited to see you today! Arrive hungry :D”--and got started on a batch of cookies. The bowl of dough fit wedged behind the milk and nearly-empty egg carton until he could bake them later, timing them so they’d be gooey and delicious right when Mark would be back. Or at least, close. Traffic was tricky, but at least the dorm could smell good.

He wiped down the kitchen and picked up all the things he had been tossing on the floor all weekend, then squared off against his closet. He’d need something that would look nice, and possibly appealing, but not weird and desperate. Although his eyes flickered over to Mark’s side of the closet, and he clamped onto the sleeve of the flannel, rubbing his fingers over the seam. _For luck, or whatever._ He refocused on the task at hand. _Assuming he’s even open to dating dudes, what sort of thing might he like to see me in?_

He pulled out several shirts and swapped out a couple different pants, holding them over himself at the mirror or laying them out on his bed to compare them. 

Twenty minutes later, he was still looking. _This definitely shouldn’t be that hard,_ he chastised, chewing on his lip. _He has seen literally every one of these on you already. Just pick something._

He finally chose a charcoal heather v-neck under a black button-up, and decided he’d spend extra time on his hair to pull the look together. It’s not like he had anything better to wear on his feet than sneakers...but at least they were clean. He had a nice wool coat to top it off when they went out.

He trimmed up his facial hair **extra** carefully and put mousse through his hair to look a little sharper, then got into his outfit. He eyed himself in the mirror and straightened everything out--well, his clothes, anyway. He hesitated as he met his eyes. That last item on the list was the hardest part. He hadn’t been on a ton of dates, but this wasn’t his first. Why was he so nervous?

He rolled his eyes as a thought occurred to him. _It’s fair to be extra into this guy. Not only are we friends already, but I’ve seen him with his shirt off more times than anyone else._

_I know what I’m walking into, basically._

Fifteen minutes now. He moved into the kitchen, lumped some cookie dough on the sheet, and set a timer. But as he was walking back into his room, he spotted the flashdrive on the edge of his desk.

 _Wonder what her surprise is…_ He decided to go ahead and peek at it. Whatever Amy had planted on there, if it would take too long, he’d save it for later.

But there was only one file on the drive; a little video titled “You’ve made an impression.” When he opened it, he was instantly touched. The first thing on the screen was a black background with white text: ‘Jack, you think you don’t have an impact…’

And what followed was scene after scene of all his friends, sometimes solo and sometimes together, waving and talking to him, or about him.

‘But that’s just not true,’ continued the text.

And the person who was undoubtedly featured the most…

‘When we think of good times in this year…’

Was Mark.

‘We think of you!’

They all had good things to say, sometimes inside jokes or just compliments. Some of them were answering questions posed by Amy behind the camera--and sometimes she was also in front of it, adding to the nice things--but some of them were just talking about fun memories, and he was mentioned fondly in the clip.

But Mark...He really did have the most to say. Some of his clips were even much earlier in the semester. Jack could tell because he was wearing breezier clothes, or had a few drops of sweat on his skin from the sun, or there was one right after he got that too-short haircut…how funny Jack was, how much he helped him with his computer, how good of a gamer he was, how it was such a relief to have a great roommate that was cool to hang out with but they could just sit in silence together too.

And he was beaming.

Some of the clips Amy had clearly caught him off guard, too. One in particular made Jack laugh the hardest; they were walking somewhere and the camera was low, stealthy, kind of catching him under the chin as he rambled on and on about Jack, and he might’ve gone on even longer had he not looked over at her, and then down at the lens, and then laughed with a flushed face and covered the camera.

One scene near the end had the whole group, everyone all together, waving and shouting “We’ll miss you Jack!” in practiced unison, and scattered cries of “Don’t forget us!” and “You rock!” and even a screeching “top of the morning to ye!” from what barely sounded like Arin.

The second to last shot had Mark sitting down and looking directly at the camera, telling Jack how glad he was to live with him, even just for a little while, and how he hoped they’ll stay friends and Skype all the time and play games online together.

And the very last shot was Amy, holding the camera vlog-style in her car, saying with a smile and a wink, “See Jack? I told you. All the time.” She brought a hand beside her mouth and ended with a whisper, “But don’t tell him I told you that.”

It was the best present he had ever gotten, and just what he needed to feel brave.

~

When Mark came home and shoved his duffle bag through the door, he said hello, and then immediately his eyes went wide. “Oh my god, it smells like heaven in here.”

“Yup, those would be the cookies. Grab some while they’re fresh,” Jack said, waving at the plate he had stacked them on.

“You made these for me?!” Mark asked. He kicked his bag towards the couch for later so he could wash his hands and grab one right away.

“Well, some of them are for me,” Jack said, leaning on his hands against the counter, “but I made them with you in mind. We’re going out for dinner, too. My treat.”

Mark stopped mid-chomp. “You know my birthday was in the summer, right?”

“Yeah, and missing it will be a huge loss, but this is different.” Jack held his breath and looked right into his eyes. “Tonight, I’m wooing you.”

“‘Wooing me,’ huh?” Mark repeated, amused. Then the intention seemed to hit him as he scanned his eyes over Jack’s outfit and done-up hair and shy smile. He tilted his head and the side of his mouth lifted, ever so slightly. He rested his eyes on Jack’s own. Then he said softly, “Alright,” and Jack’s breath came a little quicker.

~

Dinner was a delightful, super-charged conversation with food that Jack barely noticed. At one point, he threw caution to the wind and touched the tips of his fingers to the skin between Mark’s knuckles, and he let him. Being able to lay any sort of affection on someone he cared about felt like magic.

He still wasn’t sure if Mark was just entertaining the idea, or was actually interested, but he was giving it a fair shot. Jack appreciated that.

Towards the end of the meal, Mark nudged the plate away from the edge and folded his arms on the table. “So...Jack,” he said, leaning closer and saving the moment he raised his eyes for right when he said his name. “Sean.” He tipped his head towards him with a smile that sent electricity through Jack’s entire body. “Is it safe to say there is someone you’re interested in after all?”

Jack grinned. “Ya bastard. You’re supposed to be the one swooning.” He shook his head, blush coating his face. 

“Oh, I am, don’t worry,” Mark replied, smiling wider, and Jack swore he saw his eyes dart down to his lips and back. His blush spilled further down his neck.

“Then, yeah,” Jack said, voice thick with want. “There is someone I like. And I think he and I need to get out of here.”

They paid for their food at the soonest opportunity and walked out, light from the restaurant brightening the parking lot in the setting sun. Mark smiled at him again when the back of Jack’s hand hit his, and Jack huffed at the nerves he was feeling when such contact was clearly welcomed. Their breaths came out in tiny clouds in front of them and Jack wrapped his coat more tightly around himself.

Jack had his international permit, so he drove, like a gentleman, and he and Mark bounced questions off each other along the way. Favorite candy, most embarrassing memory, dream job, anything they could think of. Until Mark said, “Alright, I’ve got one,” in a tone Jack both loved and hated because he knew it meant...something. Something suspicious. 

Mark cut him a look and asked, “Have you ever pictured me naked?”

Jack locked eyes with him, face white as his misty breath, before rolling over one of the reflector lights between lanes and jerked his eyes back to the road to correct it. Mark tossed back his head and all but cackled as Jack yelled at him.

When they managed to arrive home in one piece, Jack motioned for Mark to follow him while they continued their conversation. Since the temperature had dropped even further, he led them to their familiar campus coffee shop to get hot chocolates for them both--although Mark insisted on paying this time, shouldering in front of Jack gently, but firmly, and plopped the steaming cup into Jack’s grateful hands--and they walked back into the dark.

The trip grew quiet as they sipped on their drinks, and Jack glanced at Mark more than once. If he knew he was being watched, he didn’t show it. They both looked up between streetlights, at the bright moon and the North star, the only one visible between the haze of the bulbs.

At least his surprise didn’t get rained out.

As they approached their favorite founder’s statue, Mark slipped out a laugh. Around the statue’s chilled shoulders wrapped a plaid scarf. When they reached it, Jack set his drink on the ground and hoisted himself up on the block beside it, holding onto the bronze arm to slip the scarf back over its head. Mark looked up at him in awe before Jack dropped down, and held out his arms to steady him.

“Was that you?” Mark asked, eyes sparkling at him.

Jack wound the scarf around his own hands and looked him in the eyes. “Yeah, that was me.” Then he dropped his gaze and took a deep breath. When he looked back, Mark was ready to listen, expression unreadable. “I’ve wanted to thank you for so much these last few months. Not only have you made me feel welcomed in this country, but you’ve made me feel right at home in our dorm, no matter what’s going on around us. You punched a dude for me. Twice,” he laughed. “You’re irresistible, Mark. You’re fun to be around. You’re easy to talk to. You always look out for me, even over yourself, which is why I got you this, because somehow you **still** don’t have a scarf for the winter, you lunatic.” He held it out to Mark, but pulled it back before he could lay hands on it. “Wait, I want…” Jack shook his head and turned, took a few steps away, before coming back. Mark just watched affectionately and waited.

Jack pointed at him with both hands through the fabric. “I’m going to try something, okay, and I trust you to stop me if this is not okay with you.” His eyes, round, big, and hopeful, captured Mark’s attention completely. “Because if I don’t do this now, I’ll never forgive myself.” And as his eyes dropped to Mark’s mouth, with both hands, he looped the scarf over the back of Mark’s neck, and surged forward, and kissed him.

Although there was no way Mark didn’t see it coming, he was still stunned at first, and sucked in a breath right before their lips met. But it took no time at all for him to relax into the kiss, and as Jack began to lean away, blue eyes dark and hooded, Mark followed and captured his mouth again. 

Stars burst in his vision at Mark’s enthusiastic return. Heat crashed through him. He whimpered as Mark’s hand slid around the base of his skull, holding him close, treasured. And as Jack’s fists held tight to Mark’s jacket, his tongue tentatively brushed across Mark’s lips, who groaned appreciatively. He parted them, a reward for courage, and offered a warmer, deeper kiss.

Chocolate swirled in his senses as he took a wobbly step back, and Mark’s other arm looped around his back. “I gotcha,” he said huskily. 

“Holy fook,” Jack breathed. Mark laughed into his hairline, stubble scritching as he pressed lingering kisses onto his forehead. “I’d like to do that again somet--” he started, but was interrupted by Mark’s mouth on his right away. He chuckled between kisses. "I didn't expect you to be so into it, but I'm glad."

"Same here." Mark leaned back to get a good look at him, but after a moment, his expression turned a little somber. He said, “With chemistry like that, I really wish you were staying longer.”

One of Jack’s hands slid down to rest on Mark’s arm, playing with the folds of his sleeve. “Well, then…” he said, and looked up coyly, “I guess it’s a good thing I applied for another semester, isn’t it?”

And just like before, the smile on Mark’s face lit up everything around them.

_**\- The End -** _


End file.
